


The Crowned Prince

by Mod J (AlienNerd)



Series: Units D & G [6]
Category: CATWS - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), James "Bucky" Barnes - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, HTP, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlienNerd/pseuds/Mod%20J
Summary: Plot : 1967. After being deployed, Winter!Bucky makes a strange discovery. Having just had his memories freshly erased he struggles to communicate simple desires and messages when he comes across someone in need and decides to help them.





	The Crowned Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everyone Reading It](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Everyone+Reading+It).



> I kind of wrote in a character for the reader to immerse themselves in. I'm still not sure it worked out. I'll take a note from Drawfee when posting to say I'm sorry.

***

This one. This may be the last thing you can try before starving to death. You need sustenance immediately to be strong enough to leave this place. You stalk and watch, see many colors of the same but only two shapes. There is less of one, more of the other. The one who can save you is the later of the two. You will become like the former, interlock better if there are more shapes. You can’t really change into them, not be one of them, no, you can’t become them, but you can force some of yourself to assume the look of them, shapes that may fit.

You call out from your hiding place. If it is fitting, the creature will hear your plight. If not, you will succumb to the circumstances and evaporate, giving up this form. You call, you feel it’s pain, you soothe and you call.

***

Something is softly brushing, asking entry inside his head. It’s not like the way they do it. They burn holes in his head and scoop out the insides with white hot hooks. They beat and beat him then kill all his darlings, everything he ever loved, to make him obey, to make him suffer, to make him efficient. Proper functions in working order, ready to comply.

This Other though, they stretch their fingers into the barrier of mind which is like a sheet with baseball sized holes with still smoldering edges in it now, they give thoughts, they give feelings, they give cool reassurance, dabbing it to the hot fresh injuries in his mind. “I need you. Please. Help. I am die. Let me live. I help at you.” They don’t have all their words. Neither does he.

He drifts off course. It’s fine. He’s way smarter than them and they can’t take that away. He could run rings around all day if it wasn’t for the crown of ’empty you out, fill you with pain’ no more memories. He thinks it’s like something he heard in a story, the prince who gets pain and death instead a kingdom, he can’t tell where that’s from. He just knows the crown hurts the prince, like his hurts him. He can get back fine without too many questions, he just must go back is all.

He follows an instinct, it’s like a static electricity that gets stronger as he walks the right direction.

“I don’t think I can help. I am not an …( _image: different colored puzzle pieces form to shape a human.) I am …(image: machines like pistons pumping as other parts turn fast revolutions, bullet casings showering to the ground, screwdriver_ ).”

These words he does have are all thoughts along with some pictures of things he can’t describe and name right now. It’s always the worst at first. When they take it off him finally, it feels like they are trying to take away just enough without taking too much, but they always take too much. Sometimes he can only say “Ready To Comply” in varies languages for a few hours.

“No. No. In here, I see you. You do lies to assure them, pacify. But you are still a ‘you’. I feel you. I feed you.”

He still feels the cooling sensations like ointment smoothed over wounds, but the crown. He’s so afraid. “Please, please, please, don’t tell ( _images flicker fast: arms restrained, mouth covered by a muzzle for a dog, flashing bright white light, blood pooling, spilling from his eyes and ears, restricting straps keep him from moving, now he is without them, he screams silently, hands pressed to his ears_ ).” He’s afraid of the crown of no more memories. He’s so scared he can taste it like a mouth full of pennies.

' _There’s a lot of fluff wafting in the air here, like seed of the, uh…whachamacallit flowers…what’s this word…?_ '

“I will not. I am true. Search me. I only want live, then I will go. If I can, I will give you ( _image: thumb presses puzzle piece down, mathematics and scientific symbols, question mark turns into exclamation point_ ). I count many future, this one, you can be free again, no more pain, no more suffer. ( _image: a tree with many branches, from the roots a bright yellow line flows like lightning up through the tree and out to it’s branches, down one twig which forms a large yellow fruit_ ).”

He knows not how he has reached past himself into the other. But he opens himself once inside. It’s cool and feels like his whole body being dipped in a pool of water, all of his burning holes fill in for a while.

In there he sees small creatures like cats, white furred, scampering up something like a tree but it walks. A ring of lifeforms, they raise an appendage and something like water they sprinkles over their neighbor and a sound like chimes then something that looks like flower petals slough from their bodies, floats in to the air, drawn away on a breeze he’ll never feel. The figures hop up and down, they obviously rejoice.

A seed lands. An Earth tree grows on time lapse. In a storm it tumbles over revealing the Other inside. They stumble, try to take flight on solar wind. They struggle to take energy from the sun , the moon, the stars, the rock, the water, the plants. Then: two foxes copulate. The Other puts forth their hand (' _frond?_ '). Small sparkles of rainbow colors sift into them. The hollows in their cheeks fill in a bit. They try again and again with other animals. It’s not enough, they need to receive all of the energy, not such small trickles.

“I think maybe…"He wants to help. He knows sort of, what The Other wants. ”Maybe I can give you ( _image faint, faded, tattered edges like an old photo: heart shaped paper reads Be Mine, two hands held, each from a different person, a man and woman drift through the air toward each other but do not touch_ ).“ This last is a loop, he can’t remember what they do when they reach each other, then it fades away.

”You are close to seeing it. Maybe…come, I learn you.“

He comes around the side of a high mound and sees you crouched on the other side in the high misty grasses.

***

Your white hair is long and fine, some of it’s strands drift in the air, but there is not a strong breeze. Your eyes dark purple irises and sclera. You are a pale violet color, your hands and feet a darker magenta color that fades into an ombre with the rest of you. You have heavy large breasts, and wide hips, but your arms and legs are slim and look very long for it. Two pairs of dark eyes look up at him. You close one pair and hide them to look more like him.

”I can give you … ( _image a shining gold key, a glowing wand like that of the blue fairy, a sword rising out from a stone into the air as holy light shines down on it_.) Please. I beg of you, I need ( _image: water bubbling up out of a cone shape like a gentle geyser_.) I need ( _image firework explodes in the dark sky it’s colors twinkling_.) I need ( _fork and knife clatter to a plate a napkin is tossed on top_ ).“

He sets down his gun against the raised ground beside the hollow you sit under. He takes off his tach vest and thigh holsters. He removes the facegaurd and googles he wears during most missions and squats down. He tilts his head this way then that. He leans forward furrowing his brow quizzically as he looks at your pale face. He sits cross legged in the grass before you.”You so different… did they make you? No, no, you just told me, you’re not from 'round here. Did they capture you? Did you run away?“ he is afraid he’s going to get in deep if they know anything about you.

You shake your head. ”Your masters know not of me. I am camouflage from them.“ You shift your outer cells seeming to disappear, but you see that he can still see your outline, can see where the grass ends and you begin. You are glad he was not sent to hunt you. You would be much more die if so.

He breathes out a sigh and hangs his head. It’s not for him to think about what it is or isn’t. He’s just a fucking attack dog. People rattle the fence and he comes to bite their hand off for it. He has no clue what this thing is and has no idea really how to help it.

”Please must hurry, I help you understand, find what I need.“ You say. You lean forward and reach out for him.

You take one of his hands. It is cold and hard like stone. You touch the other one, it gives good heat, yes, he is good fit.

When you touch him, you produce chemical reaction. It feels like finally, energy is here.

You feel him say, ”You smell like sugar and butter. How come you smell good? Is it because of me?“ You take your hand away. He smells nothing now, you stroke his hand again. He smells the air with closed eyes, he leans further and further toward you sniffing, filling the particle analyzer on his head. You put a hand up. His face bumps into it and he opens his eyes again. ”How do I…? Do I …? I eat …you?“

”I think so.“ You say. You have a slight idea what he means, how they get their energy. On this world it's called 'feeding'.

He leans in, eyes open and licks the corner of your mouth. He licks the tip of your nose. He sits back, confused. ”Uh, I don’t think so. You smell like sweet treats for my tummy, but you taste sort of… like…not food…good, but not food.“

”But mouth is important for your kind, I know. Try again, may you.“ You say. The time flows out of your hands like sand, but you don't rush. If you don’t get this right you might not get what you need.

He takes some of your flight floss fibers trailing from your head in hand brings it to his mouth. He opens his mouth places the ends on his tongue and sucks. His mouth makes a shape which you think might be displeasure. He shakes his head pulling the fibers from between his lips.

He takes your hand gentle and tentative, your fingers are much shorter than his. He uses his other hand to straiten your finger. He slides it into his mouth. The smell is all around now. You literally vibrate, jittering all over as he sucks the finger, his pale turquoise eyes open watching you.

”That does something…if my snout feels like... “ He says and leans forward again to your face. This time he licks your lips and between them, tasting in a very different way. He touches his lips to yours over and over, at first in a strange impotent movement, then more and more eagerly as he begins to understand the point of it, which you glean from him. Your siphon becomes active an you vibrate at a higher frequency, you emit a quiet sound which to him sounds like a strange ' _laughing_ '. Your lips secrete nectar and he relishes it. It’s flavor is like berries.

***

He remembers ‘ _kiss_ ’ now and begins to full on kiss The Other. She begins to taste sweet and he thinks of what comes next. He puts his hands on her shivering shoulders and slides them both up the sides of her neck, cupping her face in his hands. He kisses her deeply and his lower half feels strange, it tingles all over his…thing that is…’ _strong, big, uhm... hero? These aren’t the right words_ …’. He blinks slowly, once and breathes in her yummy sell.

He can’t remember what it’s called, what they are doing ( _'daring? darting? dancing?dating?'_ ), but he remembers how some of it goes. He thinks he knows exactly what she needs, but that’s the problem, he can’t remember it. What it’s called, what it does, how to find it, get it or make it.

They take this kind of memory away more often than anything else. He knows as an adult the thing they keep taking is very important to him, it’s important for everyone, but especially him because it’s attached directly to the parts they want him to forget. Time and time again they burn up his memories. It leaves him in a state where he doesn’t know things he should know and it forces him to wait for them to tell him what he is and can do. He feels helpless and stupid and angry & then, as soon as he starts to figure things out himself, it’s time to be asleep again.

He pushes you back and down gently. You both lie in the mist on the soft dampened leaves. He kisses you for a long time. He touches your arm, shoulder and neck. His eyes are open, he blinks and looks at your eyes. He touches your decorative sacks rubbing his hand over your supple cool flesh. He squeezes them again and again, his hands are very gentle and he is sure to touch the soft one to you as much as the other. He stops the kissing and pulls up his shirt. ”Do you have this?“ He says pointing to his front.

At first you don’t see what he refers, then you notice small nubs on his chest. ”No. I made these kind for you to interconnect with.“ You say gesturing to your chest area.

”Oh, uh, I guess you don’t need to do that then.“ is his reply

”Do what? Maybe you do. Are they not decorative? How do you use them?“ You ask.

”Well, I’m trying to think of the word for this part, “ He says pointing at his nipple ”and I can’t. But I know what it’s for. Some of us with bigger breasts feed a babies with it. But also it feels good to touch. I was going to touch for you. But you don-“

Before he’s done explaining, you reach forward and rub his with you fingers. His nerve collection there responds well. His face flushes and he hitches a breath. "Ho-whoa… what?! Oh, jeez, that’s -uuuhmf!- my goodness, ever so nice.” he groans aloud. You can feel he likes this very much, his seed planting part swells, beginning to ripen.

“Is there somewhere that is good to touch for you?” He asks watching you finger tips draw a spiral over his skin before looking back to your eyes.

“I don’t have this but, I have a shape here you can touch.” You say.

You point out the shape like a star made of petals at the top of your generator, energy siphon & compactor, your sivsal-ulalu, which you’ve moved betwixt the legs to make connection easy for him. As you rub him, he reaches curious hands out to touch.

He brushes fingers lightly over you. It feels like this is going in the right direction. You secrete more nectar from there. Your bud begins to split open, the clear fluid trailing down along the slit.

Panting quietly he says, “Is this sweet too? Should I kiss there?” His voice outside his head is a delight to the sonar processors.

You blink and nod.

He bends forward to your lap and kisses the center of the star shaped bloom. More nectar issues forth. He sucks at it, gently, softly, lightly. You flush with cannabinoid compound, time moves slow, you feel beautiful and you are ripening more all the time. The compound also filters into your nectar, which he becomes even more enthused to consume hungrily sucking it as fast as your glands can pump it out.

Without moving his face from you he awkwardly crawls closer to your legs then between them so he is parallel to you instead of perpendicular. You look down. His open eyes look up at you, you nod reassuring him. He never looks away. He licks up and down in a long line, drawing the nectar down and pressing in with his tongue between the folds of you.

You sift through his scattered memories and begin compiling a small trove of things that seem important to him. While you focus on that, your ulalu reaches out for his stimulus, the sides of your bud soften and become flexible, conscienceless you move them to do what he’s doing, what he called kissing.

***

Something inside slides down his tongue like a finger, and now her …’ _volvo?uvula?_ ’ moves as if kissing him back. He feels revulsion at first, almost pulls away. But then says to himself ’Who am I to say how it should or shouldn’t be? How can I tell it how to do… love. I don’t even know what I’m doing.’ So with that, plunges forward wholeheartedly kissing and licking with the squirming strange body part. She begins to moan out loud, a high call like a birdsong. He pulls his face away for a look at what his mouth has found.

There in the slit, it’s dark, but something glows dimly. It’s the size and shape of a thumb from the first knuckle to the tip, looking a little like a... ’ _nipPLE! IT ’S A NIPPLE! AUGH, I’M SO STUPID!_ ’. Yet it moves and slides along like a tongue on lips. He decides he likes the look of it and what it can do. He resumes, looking back to her dark purple eyes. “You are different here than I’m used to, but I recall now. So, this is love.” He says. “If you have a hole here maybe…( _image: forefinger and thumb in a circle, another forefinger enters, a bright gold light emanates from all fingers_ ).”

“Then you give me ( _image: violet balloon pops, confetti fills the air_ )?” She asks.

“Yes, and I think maybe I also ( _image: cerulean balloon pops, confetti_ ).”

He undoes the two buttons at the top of his pants. He unzips them and pushes them down. He innocuously looks to her, with his hardened penis hanging out of his pants. “I feel good here. So I think we’re doing the thing right.” He touches himself, his eyes flutter closed and he sways slightly as if he is dizzy. He rubs his hand over the top side of his penis shaft as if petting a dog, palm open, fingers strait, completely unaware of more efficient ways to stimulate himself."Uuuhn..." he moans in a soft voice.

She sits up on one elbow and touches him as well. He jerks his hips back from her touch. “Are you feel pain?” She asks now worried.

He forces his squeezed closed eyes to open. “No. Oh, I like it so much. It only feels good here. It feels too good, too much good.” He sighs.

“I think it’s time now. Let me touch with my ulalu. I will understand your connective seeder better. This may be how to get energy.” She lies back again and he crawls closer, squishing blades of grass and damp leaves under his palms and knees.

The ulalu touches all around the head of his cock, slippery and soft. He begins crying out "Aahhh, ah!" looking into her eyes. He hopes she can feel he’s not hurting, he’s doing exactly opposite. He’s …he’s becoming…he’s getting… he can’t find the word yet. Too many memories got burned up. But he can’t feel the burns anymore, just the beautiful thing she is giving him, it feels like it is coming into him from her through his penis. That word, ‘ _…coming…no, that’s not it_ ’. He’s not finishing but starting something…all he can say for it is love. He feels like love.

Without thinking about it, he feels the ulalu pressing down pushing his penis down into the slit more, so he allows it to guide him. Then like the opposite of popping a cork, he sinks into her with a smushy bumping sound, his hips colliding with hers.

Everything feels very wet and familiar. He uses his voice and moans “Huhn! Huhn! Huhn!-” he takes a deep breath and continues to moan, “-Uuuhn! Uhn! Uuuhnn!"

It’s soft and slippery and it holds him close like hugging. He feels so good he wants to die, right here and now. He will never feel anymore pain, just this and then the end. He will cherish this forever and when he’s sad because they burned and hurt him and took away his love, he will become a light happy spirit because she made it feel so good.

Without knowing he what he’s doing, he pulls out a bit and if he thought what happened when he went in was the bee’s knees, then he is just floored with how much better it could get. He contorts his face and if they were burning him this would be a grimace but, as far as he knows there’s no word for when something good makes you make this kind of face. He can’t keep it inside, he loudly cries out, "Oooh, my goodness!! How did I forget what this is called ! Huh, huh, huuuhn…”

They torture him so much, the only good feelings he remembers is when they stop the pain and leave him alone. If he had any idea… no wonder they make him forget. If he thinks the best they can give him is not having pain, that’s how they trick him and he ends up grateful, thinking they are giving him something good when they’re not.

He humps slowly at first, getting a feel for it. Ask him to load an AK47, he does so at top speed, no wasted movement. But this, it’s like learning how to cook an egg, he feels too much too fast could spoil it.

He thrusts a little faster and feels how it’s better to do it. He leans down on top of her, forgetting himself with his head on her right shoulder his left arm around her neck and shoulders, his right arm holding his upper body up, his hips still up, thrusting in and out of her. She sends, ”This is optimal, the energy is starting to flow, but I need more, faster please.“

Out of her mouth is just the same singing like vocalizations from before, though much louder and sounding as if it’s syllables are closer together now.

Something is starting to happen to him, something is building and when he thrust a bit faster he then feels an explosion of the good feelings inside, everything below the waist and above the knees feels like…well, nothing feels like this. He can’t remember ever feeling this. It’s good like finally getting some water after a long thirst. It feels good like scratching an itchy spot just right. It feels like tingling goosebumps and sneezing and getting good sleep stretches. But it’s a strong sensation and it’s over too quickly. “Uuuhhn…” he moans as he sighs a long relieved sigh.

”Many thank of you.“ She says.

He sits up and opens his eyes. She is even more beautiful than before, her colors more vibrant, her flesh more filled in, her face is rounder, her bottom too, arms and legs are more defined, hair thicker and fluffier than ever. Honestly her whole body is thicker in every way. She looks very healthy for a…um, well, whatever she is.

”I give many thanks, but I fear I need a bit more. I’ll live now, but I can’t fly away back home yet. If i use this energy I’ll die on my way and if I stay I may never find such a compatible candidate. Is there more? Is there a different way of love? I’m still very hungry.“ She continues.

He thinks for a moment as he pulls his half asleep penis out of her. He has a hole, too. If she put things in…he feels suddenly shy thinking about this. It isn't allowed and it was the first secret they found out and tried to take. His face begins to burn. Looking away, his long hair hiding his face, he sends her ( _image: two male figures, one facing the back of the other rubbing his hands down the first’s chest, then looks of ecstasy in both faces, a penis penetrates between buttocks_ ).

He bends over and on his knees lays forward onto the forest floor. His upper chest flattens to the ground, dew wetting the front of his shirt, dark hair wreathing his head. Leaves and grass stick to his face. The rich smell of soil fills his nose. His eyes are as guileless as The Other’s. This is a part who he is, who he really is behind the conditioning and programming. They try to make him forget this, but he can’t help it, when he is doing things like this he always remembers he likes to be filled up, too.

Spreading himself to the light with both hands, getting goosebumps from the cool air on his anus, he says, ”Here. Lick me, here. Then you can do it. Then you get bigger good feelings energy again.“ and he remembers ' _do it_ ’ is a word for what they’ve been doing. He wonders if her fingers will work or if ulalus can grow big like cocks do.

His eyes, without lie or hate, just a gentle plea to not be hurt in this moment, watch as her body transforms. Her breast shrink and disappear replaced by a torso that look like his. The bud around the ulalu as she called it seems to close then spiral in on itself. Then from below her blossom, a protrusion. It is poking out further and further until it’s the length and thickness of his penis. The end of it looks different though and reminds him of an elephant’s trunk.

***

”I didn’t know you could fit sivsals together from the back end.“ You say.

”I… they make me forget things. I think they want me to be like the toy soldier. A toy has no wants or memories, love or needs. So I forgot how to do love, do 'it’.“ He says.”But I remember this now, it feels good too.“

You kneel in the grass behind him. ”Should I touch your sivsal, too?“

”I like your word. Please? It feels so nice. I can’t remember anything nicer. Please, please touch me.“ he begs. All he wants is to feel good for a while, he thinks. She (he?) doesn’t have to help him escape anymore, if only he touches nice now, not burn; just good, not bad.

You bend forward and lick in small flicks at his anus. As you do this, you use both hands to close around his penis and pull down toward the ground. When one hand slides off, You slide the next down. You do this to Bucky over and over, whilst giving him back his name. ”I found this.“ You say passing it back to him via an image like a piece of a ripped up photo. ”They didn’t burn up, they’re just hidden and mixed up. I promised I will help you, friend. There will be more. Please feed me some more, then I help you more.“

Bucky sighs in the grass, leaves and dirt. He holds it close. They always hide his name from him. They make him what he is and call him Winter Soldier, but that’s not true. His name is BUCKY. A tear falls down his pale face down onto the grass and he looks the furthest thing away from a machine, a tool or a weapon.

You see what he really is. He is a beautiful vulnerable soul, wandering a cruel and hostile landscape. He’s looking for away to go back, get away. He’s been so afraid and made to hurt so much, but he can’t give up, no matter what they do. He can still feel, he never gives up his ability to feel, what they want to take away the most. He wants to go home everyday, but he pretends to be their toy, because he doesn’t want it to hurt anymore. If he does as he's told and doesn't fight they don't hurt him so many times. So he obeys, sometimes he can't take anymore and tries to stop, then his body forces him to do it out of it's desire to preserve itself and it’s the only way to survive.

***

What’s happening to him right now is so lovely and pure, just all goodness. This moment feels so long, and his body which o'ny ever hurts or is tired from fighting, just feels all good now. His insides feel all stirred up in the best way, his crotch feels so good he can hardly stand it, and the licking! He feels this is what it’s like to be frosting on a cake, when they love you with their tongue. All of this is in opposition to his normal days, no sad, no killing, no spying, no manipulation, no missions, no beatings, no crowned prince of no more memories.

Just Bucky’s Good Feelings, the ones they’ve tried so hard to take away.

When his friend puts their sivsal inside him it hurts for a second, but it’s not bad, not burning and it goes away fast, quickly replaced by more good feelings. He uses his own hands to rub his penis, backing his rear up and down as they push in and out.

Bucky gives his friend a name too, a nickname that only he knows, ”Lei. For the ( _image: tropical flowers necklace_ ).“ He thinks Lei is a flower from space. So this makes perfect sense.

***

You appreciate being given a human name, you see they are so very important to them. On your homeworld everyone just has a unique smell, their chlorophyll reacting with the suns. Having a name given makes you feel so close to Bucky, truly friends.

More energy flows out of these thoughts and out from Bucky’s body. You realize soon that Bucky will have another moment of intense 'good feeling’. You focus all efforts on your physical connection, but organizes the information you wish to transfer to Bucky. He’s getting louder now, indicating this transfer of energy to be near it’s peak. You thrust again and again until Bucky suddenly exclaims, "Oh! Oh, my! I feel lots of love now, it’s so big, so good! Uhn, uuhhn! Why is it so good!? I can’t - ’s so good-! Can I die now?! Huhn, my aaAGH– TOO MUCH!! UUUUHHN!"

The stream of energy hits you in the core. You begin sucking it in with your sivsal, you quickly fill to the brink, the rest of the energy flows back into that of the universe itself, you feel you could last on this power for months.

Bucky falls onto his side and just lays panting in the grass, face red, eyes still glazed. His hands are still between his legs, from which his nectar drips. He holds himself like he’s trying to grab and hold onto what he feels there. You lie down, too.

You place something just inside the barrier around Bucky’s mind, near the furthest corner from the area they’ve been moving his memories from. On the inside of the barrier in this area is the memory of stories, two of which reside here. They are small, thin, tattered books with shiny gold on the bindings.

”I found this too,“ several more shreds of the photo. This one is ' _Steve_ ’. Looking at it he realizes there are more Steve things inside him somewhere, they hid those things. But he will find them. And the same for these others; this one is ' _love_ ’, this one is ' _hope_ ’. Bucky breaks them up and squirrels away the pieces in his languages, they do love to take his words away but they need him to know other ones, he can hide them here.

This last piece is a tiny book way smaller than his two books. It’s barely bigger than a silver dollar. When Bucky flips the pages he sees images flashing out like a cartoon reel. He sees explosions and fighting and himself running away. He feels giddy with hope. The ideas and plan are not his, so they can’t burn or rip them up. Sometime soon he will have the chance to remember things in the same place he remembers how to feel. He will remember Taurine, Adderal and New York. He needs to be in New York or the plan won’t work.

"It may seem like a long wait, but you have other friends in this future. They will help you. You won’t have to wait too long. For a lot of it, you will sleep and some of it, you’ll be confused but they will stop hurting you. And then you get free.” You say with your mouth. It is strange to now speak his language aloud.

“But how can I stand it? How will I be able to wait?” Bucky whimpers. The sentence is strangled out of his mouth and the sound is that of pure misery. He’s rocking back and forth as he lies in the grass, shuddering as tears pour from his eyes, staring back in time at the things he’s done, knowing he must do them more. You wilt at the thought that such a lovely creature must hurt and suffer, whilst the wicked rule his world.

“Don’t worry, ok? You won’t let them make you forget how to feel. You’ll never fully believe what they say. Everything else will be along side that. Even when you can’t remember me or you, you’ll remember your… heart. ( _images: Steve, Be Mine, kissing, hugging_ ).” You say.

“I don’t want you to go. You’re so good to me. I want to stay with you forever.” Bucky says. He rocks and rocks and his eye lids are drooping, his lashes are still wet. He yawns repeatedly. He reaches his soft hand out, touches yours and smells goodness. His heart is calmed and he feels a bit numb.

You smile sadly, “ I must leave eventually. I should not want to meet more humans in my current state and I must help build my family’s colony. But I’ll stay a little while. I’ll hold you while you sleep.”

You lay next to Bucky, combing his hair with your fingers. You whisper into his dreams after him, your voice echoing down spiraling chains of lost memories, combat techniques, languages and fierce love, “I will return someday, after I’ve breed my own seedlings, I will come to visit your future.”

You fall asleep for a while like that, freshly loved, fed and tired, the late morning sunlight dappling on you, warming your very different skins.


End file.
